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Description
The power thrill. The silent, pleading eyes above the gag. The initial defiance, followed by fear or resignation. I even read somewhere that a lot of women like this kind of helplessness.

OK, I know. There is a difference between them and me. They did nothing, while I... I acted out my fantasies. Mind you, I did never hurt them, not one of them. Sure, they were scared, but that will wear off. Sure, I forced them, it was strictly non-consensual. But they were never in any danger. Maybe they even enjoyed it, their adventure. After all, for a few weeks they were the center of attention, telling their bondage adventure over and over again, embellishing it maybe, adding to their Damsel in Distress story. Maybe they also fantasized about it, like I do. And I read in a news paper article, that one of them even said that she had liked it, the snugness of the ropes, the adrenaline high.

Strangely enough, my hobby started accidentally. It was really very comical. The very first girl I tied up, was walking her dog. The leash was far too long and the dog managed to run a few times around her, tying her legs with it. That scene, it was so funny! It was almost exactly like that cartoon, I once saw. Only this time, it was for real, I was there! I saw the girl trip over the rope and fell to the ground. Gentleman as I am, I hurried over to help her, but then... I don't know why, but out of the blue came this sudden urge to tie her hands together as well. By then she started to stir again, so I used her own scarf to gag her with.

When she came to... It was her eyes you know, innocent, scared, pleading, a whole confusing mixture of emotions.

I ran away, before she could see my face. But for a week or two I still saw her eyes. They had thrilled me, touched me deep inside. After a while I knew that I had to do this again. I bought a few ropes, using a store far away from where I lived, some perfectly common handkerchiefs and tape in another store. I dug up a snow mask from my cupboard as disguise. At home I practiced a few times, doubling the rope, making a loop, catching and tying up random objects in the house. I prepared the tape, timing myself. And after a few weeks I thought that I was ready for action.

Finding a suitable victim wasn't too difficult. I had set my eyes on a small stretch of wood, used by some people as a short cut to a bus stop. People passed there infrequently. I hid in the forest and waited patiently with my stash of rope in my backpack. A few women walked by, but never alone. And then appeared this girl on her own. Blond, shoulder length hair, in her twenties. I followed her closely, a black shadow moving parallel to her in the woods.

Only just in time I saw that there was a man following close behind. Completely frustrated, I abandoned the chase.

The next day I changed tactics and hid in a wood patch in a bend of the path. This way I could see my victim coming from a distance and also the people behind her. By chance the first woman to appear was the same blond girl, as the day before. I let her pass my hiding place, double checked for any followers, and then jumped upon her.

The struggle was short. Surprised as she was, the woman didn't put up much resistance. I pushed the hanky in her mouth, secured it with the tape, looped the rope around her arms. A few minutes later she was down on the ground tied up in a simple, but effective hogtie. My heart was pounding like mad, but I had succeeded. I turned the women on her side: I wanted to see her eyes. They were glowing, defiant, not at all scared, like the first girl. I moved a hand in her direction and only then I saw her flinch. I loved it!

Yeah, go on, call me a coward, a loser prowling on poor women. But to see a damsel in distress like that, it gave me a kick. And as I said, I never hurt them. They didn't stay very long tied up either. When I left them, I located a phone box and warned the police. One time I could hear the police car coming already after two minutes: that girl stayed tied up for less than fifteen minutes. Not a big deal at all, if you ask me.

After the first of my captures, I developed a sort of routine. By car I located a suitable hiding place first. A few days later I went there again, this time equipped with my precious ropes. I waited for a cute victim, attacked her from behind, gagged her and tied her up quickly. In the end I could do a hogtie in less than 90 seconds. Once the woman was restrained and helpless, I spent a couple of seconds to take a few pics with my mobile phone. Ah, those eyes, I just had to have them as a souvenir. And then quickly, I left the scene. On the way home I stopped at a phone box and gave the police the place where they could find the girl.

Initially my attacks were mentioned only in a few ironic articles in the newspapers. After all, it did have all the looks of a practical joke, an innocent prank committed by students. But after a fifth or sixth women had been found bound and gagged, one newspaper put it on the front page and baptized me the Serial Tyer.

The Serial Tyer Strikes again! was the title. I wasn't quite sure if I was happy with the nick name they gave me. I didn't like the implied comparison with serial killers and the like. Real criminals those, while I... The article said that the police even had assigned a detective to the case. For a moment I thought of sending an angry letter to the paper, explaining that I never ever would hurt a woman, that I phoned the police when I left, and that a lot of people like bondage. I even wrote the letter, but then I thought the better of it and deleted the whole file.

Still, I was sure I didn't do anything criminal. Well, not really.

From that moment however, things started to go wrong. Single women became scarce on the street, the newspaper article must have scared them off. I thought it better as well to keep quiet for a few weeks. You can imagine, how that frustrated me! And when finally I picked up my routine again, my first victim after the hiatus tried to defend herself with a pepper spray. Her aim was off, fortunately, I only caught a whiff of the stuff. Luckily enough I managed to get away, my eyes burning and tearing. But really now, damsels aren't supposed to defend themselves like that, are they?

And then came Melissa Swinley.

I didn't know her name of course. I mean, if I had known that she was the mayor's daughter, then I would have jumped back in my car and driven quickly away.

But I did not know who she was. She looked cute, and she had this predictable pattern of driving on her bike to the sports center. There she always parked the cycle in the same spot next to the gate and close to a dark patch of brush. Ideal from my point of view. Thus hidden out of sight, I waited for her this fatal Thursday night.

I saw her come on her bike. And then suddenly, things went very fast. A dark coloured van stopped, a man jumped out, tore her from her bike and threw her inside the car. The car sprinted away. It was all over in ten seconds flat. But instantly my army training took over, and I ran to my own car, in hot pursuit. I didn't think, I just acted. Here was a girl being kidnapped! A damsel to be rescued! I followed the kidnappers of the girl at a save distance. Would they have tied her up, my kinky brain wondered? With rope? Tape? Calling the police didn't cross my mind for a second.

The van drove on for some fifteen minutes and then stopped at a phone box. One man jumped out, shouting something angrily at the other. The driver came out from behind the wheel, both were angry now.

The driver had left the motor running. What the hell? I thought.

So before the two kidnappers could react, I stopped my own car right next to the kidnapper's van, jumped out of my car into theirs and drove off!

You look skeptical, Mr Police Officer, I can see it. But you have to believe me: I didn't kidnap the girl, I rescued her! You should treat me as a hero! Not as a criminal.

While driving, I risked a look over my shoulder and saw the girl on the floor of the van. And indeed the kidnappers had tied her up, hands and ankles. But I couldn't take in that exciting sight of a tied up damsel for long. The traffic got denser suddenly and I had to put my eyes back on the road. I also looked out for a place to park the van, so that I could untie the girl.

  * * *

That is why I never saw it coming. Suddenly the girl behind me, which I thought was oh so safely tied, jumped up and hit me over the head.

Well, the rest you know. The police came, and I got arrested for the kidnapping of Melissa Swinley.

The irony of it all! Here I am, the Serial Tyer, the man who can tie up a girl in 90 seconds, in way that she has no chance at all to escape. And I finally get caught, because a bunch of amateur kidnappers, doesn't know how to tie a few decent knots...

Description
The power thrill. The silent, pleading eyes above the gag. The initial defiance, followed by fear or resignation. I even read somewhere that a lot of women like this kind of helplessness.

OK, I know. There is a difference between them and me. They did nothing, while I... I acted out my fantasies. Mind you, I did never hurt them, not one of them. Sure, they were scared, but that will wear off. Sure, I forced them, it was strictly non-consensual. But they were never in any danger. Maybe they even enjoyed it, their adventure. After all, for a few weeks they were the center of attention, telling their bondage adventure over and over again, embellishing it maybe, adding to their Damsel in Distress story. Maybe they also fantasized about it, like I do. And I read in a news paper article, that one of them even said that she had liked it, the snugness of the ropes, the adrenaline high.

Strangely enough, my hobby started accidentally. It was really very comical. The very first girl I tied up, was walking her dog. The leash was far too long and the dog managed to run a few times around her, tying her legs with it. That scene, it was so funny! It was almost exactly like that cartoon, I once saw. Only this time, it was for real, I was there! I saw the girl trip over the rope and fell to the ground. Gentleman as I am, I hurried over to help her, but then... I don't know why, but out of the blue came this sudden urge to tie her hands together as well. By then she started to stir again, so I used her own scarf to gag her with.

When she came to... It was her eyes you know, innocent, scared, pleading, a whole confusing mixture of emotions.

I ran away, before she could see my face. But for a week or two I still saw her eyes. They had thrilled me, touched me deep inside. After a while I knew that I had to do this again. I bought a few ropes, using a store far away from where I lived, some perfectly common handkerchiefs and tape in another store. I dug up a snow mask from my cupboard as disguise. At home I practiced a few times, doubling the rope, making a loop, catching and tying up random objects in the house. I prepared the tape, timing myself. And after a few weeks I thought that I was ready for action.

Finding a suitable victim wasn't too difficult. I had set my eyes on a small stretch of wood, used by some people as a short cut to a bus stop. People passed there infrequently. I hid in the forest and waited patiently with my stash of rope in my backpack. A few women walked by, but never alone. And then appeared this girl on her own. Blond, shoulder length hair, in her twenties. I followed her closely, a black shadow moving parallel to her in the woods.

Only just in time I saw that there was a man following close behind. Completely frustrated, I abandoned the chase.

The next day I changed tactics and hid in a wood patch in a bend of the path. This way I could see my victim coming from a distance and also the people behind her. By chance the first woman to appear was the same blond girl, as the day before. I let her pass my hiding place, double checked for any followers, and then jumped upon her.

The struggle was short. Surprised as she was, the woman didn't put up much resistance. I pushed the hanky in her mouth, secured it with the tape, looped the rope around her arms. A few minutes later she was down on the ground tied up in a simple, but effective hogtie. My heart was pounding like mad, but I had succeeded. I turned the women on her side: I wanted to see her eyes. They were glowing, defiant, not at all scared, like the first girl. I moved a hand in her direction and only then I saw her flinch. I loved it!

Yeah, go on, call me a coward, a loser prowling on poor women. But to see a damsel in distress like that, it gave me a kick. And as I said, I never hurt them. They didn't stay very long tied up either. When I left them, I located a phone box and warned the police. One time I could hear the police car coming already after two minutes: that girl stayed tied up for less than fifteen minutes. Not a big deal at all, if you ask me.

After the first of my captures, I developed a sort of routine. By car I located a suitable hiding place first. A few days later I went there again, this time equipped with my precious ropes. I waited for a cute victim, attacked her from behind, gagged her and tied her up quickly. In the end I could do a hogtie in less than 90 seconds. Once the woman was restrained and helpless, I spent a couple of seconds to take a few pics with my mobile phone. Ah, those eyes, I just had to have them as a souvenir. And then quickly, I left the scene. On the way home I stopped at a phone box and gave the police the place where they could find the girl.

Initially my attacks were mentioned only in a few ironic articles in the newspapers. After all, it did have all the looks of a practical joke, an innocent prank committed by students. But after a fifth or sixth women had been found bound and gagged, one newspaper put it on the front page and baptized me the Serial Tyer.

The Serial Tyer Strikes again! was the title. I wasn't quite sure if I was happy with the nick name they gave me. I didn't like the implied comparison with serial killers and the like. Real criminals those, while I... The article said that the police even had assigned a detective to the case. For a moment I thought of sending an angry letter to the paper, explaining that I never ever would hurt a woman, that I phoned the police when I left, and that a lot of people like bondage. I even wrote the letter, but then I thought the better of it and deleted the whole file.

Still, I was sure I didn't do anything criminal. Well, not really.

From that moment however, things started to go wrong. Single women became scarce on the street, the newspaper article must have scared them off. I thought it better as well to keep quiet for a few weeks. You can imagine, how that frustrated me! And when finally I picked up my routine again, my first victim after the hiatus tried to defend herself with a pepper spray. Her aim was off, fortunately, I only caught a whiff of the stuff. Luckily enough I managed to get away, my eyes burning and tearing. But really now, damsels aren't supposed to defend themselves like that, are they?

And then came Melissa Swinley.

I didn't know her name of course. I mean, if I had known that she was the mayor's daughter, then I would have jumped back in my car and driven quickly away.

But I did not know who she was. She looked cute, and she had this predictable pattern of driving on her bike to the sports center. There she always parked the cycle in the same spot next to the gate and close to a dark patch of brush. Ideal from my point of view. Thus hidden out of sight, I waited for her this fatal Thursday night.

I saw her come on her bike. And then suddenly, things went very fast. A dark coloured van stopped, a man jumped out, tore her from her bike and threw her inside the car. The car sprinted away. It was all over in ten seconds flat. But instantly my army training took over, and I ran to my own car, in hot pursuit. I didn't think, I just acted. Here was a girl being kidnapped! A damsel to be rescued! I followed the kidnappers of the girl at a save distance. Would they have tied her up, my kinky brain wondered? With rope? Tape? Calling the police didn't cross my mind for a second.

The van drove on for some fifteen minutes and then stopped at a phone box. One man jumped out, shouting something angrily at the other. The driver came out from behind the wheel, both were angry now.

The driver had left the motor running. What the hell? I thought.

So before the two kidnappers could react, I stopped my own car right next to the kidnapper's van, jumped out of my car into theirs and drove off!

You look skeptical, Mr Police Officer, I can see it. But you have to believe me: I didn't kidnap the girl, I rescued her! You should treat me as a hero! Not as a criminal.

While driving, I risked a look over my shoulder and saw the girl on the floor of the van. And indeed the kidnappers had tied her up, hands and ankles. But I couldn't take in that exciting sight of a tied up damsel for long. The traffic got denser suddenly and I had to put my eyes back on the road. I also looked out for a place to park the van, so that I could untie the girl.

  * * *

That is why I never saw it coming. Suddenly the girl behind me, which I thought was oh so safely tied, jumped up and hit me over the head.

Well, the rest you know. The police came, and I got arrested for the kidnapping of Melissa Swinley.

The irony of it all! Here I am, the Serial Tyer, the man who can tie up a girl in 90 seconds, in way that she has no chance at all to escape. And I finally get caught, because a bunch of amateur kidnappers, doesn't know how to tie a few decent knots...